The Penn's Grove record., 1887-07-02

doctor, WHO pronounced ner suffering
from a virulent a 8 of diphtheria. He
tod it brokenly, the earsrunning down
his puffy cheeks.
"Mrs. Fem amt strong enough to
stand such a strain as this'l be OF
her." he said, forlornly. 81 went for
Mrs. Jasper to come an tend Miss
Violet, but she don't care to come on
account Of the disease. And Miss
Crupps was sick, an the poor child
needs watching and tending every
blessed minute, an Maria has to tend
to the house."
Elise listened. dismayed.
"Violet down with diphtherlal
Where did she take such a disease?
How did she get itP Did you say she
was all purple and swollen, Johnp Have
you been by herp Did you dare come
here without being d~isinfected2 You
can carry disease in your clothes, your
hairI How dared you, John? Go
right out on the stoop, and talk to me
through the windowp'
II have not been Gear poor Miss
Violet, ma'am, only as L drove her
home last night from the depot"
"Ohi" said Elise, somewhat Gained.
"Poor Violet Poor motherl How
awful, how terriblet'
At the gate John met Bixby, with
her flock. They were in the gayest
possible spirits, and held up for his
admiration long dandelion chains. but
he was in NJ mood for trlties. His
news. abruptly told, struck Bixby like
a bolt from a clear sky.
Don't say my Miss Violet is dying,
Johnl'
Then, without another word, she
sought Mrs. Maurice.
you must get somebody in my
place." she said. 81 am going home
to Miss Violet"
"What ~nonsensical talkl' said Elise,
who was lovely in her pallor. "Mother
sent down word that you were not to
ONE home. L need you with the chill
dren. 1t would be very mean for you
to go away now. Besides, you will
take the d%Iphtherla; it's a dangerous
disease, and If you get sick, who is
going to tend to your Listen to rea-
son, BixbY."
81 can't listen to such reason" said
Bixby, in a choked voice. ~ can't
tell you how l feel, ma'am; you
wouldn't understand. Miss Violet took
me from hell and gave me Heavenl'
The intensity Of her speech shocked
Elise.
"What blasphemyl Stop talking.
This is ~unbearable, Blxbyl"
"And I'd lay down my life fur herl"
| continued the girl, with flashing eyes,.
"I've never had no chance yet to do
fur them. Oh, if Jesus gave His life
fur his enemies, can't I risk mine fur
my friends2"
flush, Bixbyl" said Elise, petulant-
l.. you don't know what you are
talking about. Go back to the chill
dren.n
But instead OF going obediently back
to the little ones, Blxby got her things
and went disobediently down the street.
7 Mrs. Fem, pallid, wan, keeping Sleep
less watch over the child dearer to her
than life, looked up a~stonished, as
Blxby softly entered the sick room.
She waved her back. .
"Violet is very, very sick. Do not
come by her. Bixsy, l do not want you
to take the disease"
II am not afraid Of it. I only want
to do fur her-to help you. Fur the
dear Lords sake, Jet me hev my chance
of doing, ma'aml"
A solemn warfare with death was
waged for hours in that hushed room.
Without were bud and blossom and
golden sunshine, the merry laugh of
children and song of birds, the hum
ming Of bees, as they slipped nectar
from white and pink petaled blooms.
| Within was ceaseless vigil and agonizing
prayer, and a vain, SO it seemed, hope
against hope. No one knew the mo-
ment when the real crisis came. and
the dread angel sheathed the sword up
lifted to smite, but slowly dawned the
blessed certainty. Violet would live.
"You must go down into the garden
and get some fresh air, Blxby," said
Mrs. Fem, gently, 'It seems to me
you have not really eaten or slept for
days. 1 shall have to give you an
opiate."
eyes, do go down, Bixbyl" pleaded
Violet, from her couch. She lay there
very fair and frail, so glad to be back
from the portals of death, SO thankful
to God for bestowing on her her life as
a gift for the second time. Her COM
pl6AlOu Was ID lush anu AulA 90 -
babes. her eyes were large and lumi-
nous.
Dear, good Bixbyl How invalua-
BILE you have BEEN"
BIxby obeyed without protest. Once
out in the sunshine, she thought she
would feel better; her head ached, and
| elasticity seemed to have left her sturdy
limbs. What a beautiful world 1t was!
| She stopped to look at the cactus, a
mass Of gorgeous crimson bloom on the
terrace, and bent over the m~oss-pinks
in the border. There were robins
nesting in the elms; she heard the bees
droning in the cherry-blossoms. The
world was beautiful, and life was sweet.
She wanted to lie down there on the
soft turf, and feel the breeze cooling
her cheek; she longed to, like a very
| child. She would lie down Just a little
while, then go back to Miss Violet.
Old John, coming by a while later, saw
her still resting there.
"This will never do, child" he said,
shaking her. "The ground is damp.
If you are sleepy, go into the house,"
She looked up at him, with strange,
dali eyes, then closed them heavily.
"You must get up, Blxbyl' he said,
authoritatively.
She minded him stupidity, and was
led docilely to her little room, and
placed in the bed from which she was
never again to rise. She babbled in her
delirium of old, childish scenes and
sufferings, and was again a servant of
servants, a defenseless, homeless
drudge.
"No one loves me; 1 haIn't got no
folksl" she cried, shifting her feeble
palms.
Sad truth, not to be denledl The
depth and sweetness of human love had
never been revealed to her. She lad
bon befriended, helped, but loved,
never. But she had loved. Could she
have done moreP The present took
shape with the past. She babbled OF
Miss Violet.
Cant l die for her, Lord2" she